Secrets at the ballet
by JoMiSm
Summary: The Avengers are forced out to the ballet by an insistent Pepper. But what happens when Natasha comes across someone from her past, someone with the last name 'Petrovich' (I wonder how many of you just paled at that name.)


_**VERY VERY VERY STRONGLY BASED ON **__**The Avengers Go To The Ballet**__** BY PalmerBlake! Thank you so VERY MUCH for giving me permission. Natasha's outfit:**_

_** fashionandhappify . info /wp-content /uploads /2013 /06 /Totally -Black -Dress -Outfit .jpg**_

_**remove spaces.**_

_**this story is dedicated to ELEKAT! :D **_

* * *

"No." Natasha said with a glare sent Tony's way. He was currently getting between her and the punching bag-if he didn't move soon, he'd _become _the punching bag.

"Why not, Nattie? Aren't all girls supposed to like ballet?" Tony asked, refusing to move. Swiftly, Natasha hooked her foot behind his knee, sending him tumbling without lifting a finger.

"All girls do not like the ballet, and I don't have to give you a reason." Natasha said, smoothly stepping over the billionaire on the floor.

"Natashaaa! Pepper's making us go! Please." Tony begged, looking up at her pitifully, not moving from the floor.

"_No_, Tony. No." Natasha said, landing a vicious blow to the dummy. Just as Tony climbed to his feet, Clint moped into the gym.

"Tashaaaa, Pepper's making me go to the ballet." He groaned, leaning against the ropes of the boxing ring. "Come with me, pleeeeeeease?"

Natasha hesitated for only a moment. "Okay." she replied, not looking away from her task at hand.

"I-Wait-what? How come you say yes to him on the first try?!" Tony asked, pouting.

"He's my partner, he is less annoying than you, and now he owes me a favor." Natasha listed off quickly, landing a punch with the words 'partner', 'annoying', 'you', and 'favor.'

"Yeah... just your partner..." Tony waggled an eyebrow. Pfft, they had to be secretly in love or something. Natasha send a glare (and a knife) at his head.

Tony walked away, grumbling, to find appropriate attire for a ballet. AC-DC T-shirt, or Kiss T-shirt? Ah, the important questions in life.

* * *

As it turns out, Pepper did not approve of a T-shirt for a formal ballet. When they met in the lobby before they went outside, they were all inspected by Pepper. Tony had been forced into a suit, and everyone else had worn one of their own accord. (Well, Thor had to be told beforehand, but he had an excuse.) Pepper had made sure that everyone's ties matched their eyes, to much complaining. Pepper herself was wearing a deep blue, knee-length dress that cinched at the waist and had two straps. Tony not-so-secretly stared. They were only waiting on Natasha and Clint, the only two people Pepper wouldn't have to check the outfits of because they dressed formally on missions at times.

Tony was just starting to complain about their slight tardiness when the elevator doors opened, revealing the assassins within. Clint wore the prettiest tie of all of the men's because his eyes were a stormy grey; he wore grey silk. It was Natasha, however, that looked simply stunning. She wore a one-strapped black dress, gathered at the waist by a black belt of the same soft cloth of the dress. Her black heels added some height to her usually slightly short frame, and her earrings, Tony noted, looked sharp enough to be lethal weapons. She was stunning, however, not because of the simple beauty of the dress, but because of the poise and grace she naturally carried herself with. Her minimalistic makeup only added to the look.

She blinked at the half-moment of silence from the men before breaking it quickly. "I guess we should be on our way." Natasha said, looking to Pepper. Pepper, who didn't see Natasha in the same light as the men, nodded, shoving Tony out the door before he could complain any more about the ballet. Natasha was the last out the door, more reluctant, even, than Tony.

They took a limousine, of course, because Tony is Tony Stark and they are the Avengers, and darn it, they will not be seen in anything less. At least, that is Tony's reasoning. The ride is spent in close to silence, because the place the ballet would be taking place at was very close to Stark Towers. One thing that struck Natasha, from the idle chit-chat, was the name of the director of the ballet. Alexei Petrovich. Natasha froze at the name, but the limousine stopped before she could say anything.

The team was led into the beautiful room where they would be watching from, and no one had noticed Natasha's reaction to the name. It couldn't be the same man...could it?

"Tony, we still have forever to wait... do you think you could get us in backstage?" Natasha vaguely heard Pepper ask, as she was still lost in thought.

"Sure. I'm sure they'll bend some rules for Tony Stark." Tony replied. Natasha suddenly found herself with the group at the doors to the backstage area, a rather large and scary man guarding the entrance.

"Names." A Russian accent colored his words.

"Tony Stark." Tony said. The large and scary Russian man flipped through his list.

"Not on the list." He said, in a gruff, apologetic way.

"Surely you can make an exception-!" Tony began. Before an argument could break out, Natasha held up a hand. "What? No offense, Nattie, but if they aren't gonna let me in..."

Natasha glared at him to shut him up. "Natalia Romanova." Natasha murmured to the man. Mr. Large-scary-and Russian's eyes widened in surprise.

"Of course, Ms. Romanova, go right in! Are they with you?" The guard asked, instantly super polite.

"Da." Natasha said. They followed her in through the doors, Tony looking confused.

"But that isn't your name..." Tony said, looking, puzzled, at Natasha.

"You're right, it isn't. But it was, once." Natasha murmured, leaving the explanation to her past shrouded in a riddle, wrapped in an enigma, and covered in a conundrum. "I've got to go speak to someone." Natasha said, and without a second thought, walked away.

"Who is she going to see? What does she mean?" Tony asked, automatically looking to Clint. He is generally the most knowledgeable about Natasha.

"She changed her name, idiot. And... wait, did you say the director of this ballet's name was Alexei Petrovich?" Clint asked. Tony nodded. Clint paled.

"What?" asked Tony, looking worried.

"That's... That's someone from the Room." Clint muttered, looking in the direction Natasha had gone. Where did she go...?

"Room? What room, the lobby?" Tony asked, confused.

Clint paused in his search for his partner. "It's a long story that I am not at liberty to tell you." Tony sighed.

"All you assassins with your assassin-y secrets..." He muttered. Before he could do any more questioning, Pepper dragged him away to stare in disbelief at the ballerina's beautiful costumes and unnatural looking stretches.

* * *

Alexei Petrovich sat, stressed, in his office before the show. He had too many loose ends to tie up, too many last minute details... He didn't even notice a presence behind him.

"Alexei." A sudden soft voice said from behind him. He jumped, turning around. At first, all he saw was some random redhead who happened to have sneaked up behind him. Then, recognition dawned on his features.

"Natalia...?" Alexei whispered wonderingly. Natasha blinked at the ill-used name.

"Actually, I go by Natasha now." Natasha said, leaning against his desk casually. Alexei blinked tears from his eyes. He'd thought she was dead. He didn't hesitate a moment before throwing his arms around her in a big, Russian bear hug.

Natasha kept herself from shoving a knife at his throat because he was the only... Shall I dare say _good_ thing about her childhood. He was her ballet instructor, the brother to Ivan Petrovich. When Alexei got the smallest hint of the cruel, twisted, horrifying things his brother was doing, he left, and the only thing that kept him alive to this day was the twisted sense of familial obligation Ivan felt.

"It has been so very long, dear girl. How are you?" Alexei seemed to realize that something had to be wrong, looking over his shoulder as though he expected the rest of her Red Room entourage to be behind her. The last time he'd seen her, she'd been ten, completely and utterly brainwashed by the Room.

"Fine, fine... I escaped." Natasha said, looking again at his face. He was the only nice thing that happened while she was in Russia. He'd been gentle. He'd been... Kind.

"What about the others? Viktoria, Alexandria, Anastasia...?" Alexei asked.

Natasha's breath almost imperceptibly hitched. "Dead."

They were silent for a moment, then Natasha broke it. "What is being performed tonight?" she asked. His face lit up.

"Swan lake-oh, Natalia, you surely must take the lead-you were good enough to play it at ten years old!" Alexei pleaded, lapsing back on her old name.

Natasha started to refuse, but Alexei cut her off. "Please? For an old friend?" Alexei pleaded.

* * *

"Where _is_ Natasha?" Tony asked grumpily, back in his seat.

"I don't know." Clint replied distractedly, discreetly scanning the crowd for a single person. When he didn't see the brother of the director with his sniper's eyes, he visibly relaxed.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to introduce our dancers for tonight-" Everyone looked to the stage as the voice started talking. No one was really listening until they heard a _very_ familiar name. "and as Princess Odette- Natasha Romanoff." Finished the voice. All of the avengers, besides Clint, gasped as the lights brightened, revealing Natasha, poised to begin.

"Sh-she does ballet?!" Tony stuttered. He was quickly hushed as she began to dance. She danced with such sweet innocence and grace that everyone silently wondered how she could go from a cold assassin to _that_. But for now, that wasn't important. For now, they could watch her dance.

And on the stage, Natasha knew that her team was watching her, and though she feared ridicule was in her future, she put her all into the performance. As she finished the dance, she was greeted with a standing ovation.

Right in the middle of the clapping people was her team. A genuine smile lit up her face, and for once she didn't feel like an assassin, a spy, a murderer.

She was simply a dancer, and she was happy.

* * *

_**That is FINALLY done! Thank goodness, it took ages. :) I hope you enjoyed... *nervous* I'm not really sure about it... **_


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